


(When Your Heart is On Fire) Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

by labyrinthof_fan_fiction



Series: Smoke and Springtime [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: 50s au, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labyrinthof_fan_fiction/pseuds/labyrinthof_fan_fiction
Summary: Geralt just wanted a calm night at the club, a drink in one hand, a cigar in the other. Then that crooner, Jaskier, took the stage. Post WWII, Geralt is still adjusting to life as a civilian.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Smoke and Springtime [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799581
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	(When Your Heart is On Fire) Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: PTSD mentions, Alcohol Consumption
> 
> I warned you all that this was going to happen, we’re going to be thriving off this Vera Lynn playlist for a long time. Also I’ve made Roach into a cat for this, why not? Inspiration: Vic Damone’s (When Your Heart’s on Fire) Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. His version was recorded in 1956, but the song has existed since 1933. Look his voice is to die for and exactly how I’d imagine crooner Jaskier would sound. Because I love Joey, but crooner Jaskier would be a hell of a baritone with a beautiful falsetto. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Witcher. I don’t own ‘Smoke Gets in Your Eyes’

Geralt had a long day, hell a long week. Adjusting to civilian life after the war had taken its toll on him. Going back to his job in the factory had not been as easy as he had planned. Shell shock was what they had called it when they found him curled in a ball in the bathroom after a machine had let out a violent blast. His shaking hands wrapped around his head, eyes searching for the shrapnel that never came. 

After that incident he had been taken off the floor and placed in an office. He despised the office. They even had the audacity to require him to come to work in a shirt and tie everyday. “It’s what an office man wears.” They had said. “You can always go somewhere else.” 

He wasn’t about to tell them he had never wanted to be an office man, that their absurd notion of moving him to a desk job was an act of service to him for his own act of service, was an insult. Because in the end, he needed a job. He didn’t have a wife or child to care for, but he had a cat, and the cat had to eat. Roach, his mangy tom cat, provided him with companionship, in turn Geralt provided him with a meal.

He was constantly badgered by his coworkers about his bachelor status. “How haven’t you found a little lady to settle down with?” One would say. 

“A man like you would have no trouble getting some little thing to fall in love with you.” Another would chime in. 

“You’ll grow tired of the bachelor status soon enough.” His boss would say, “Nothing like comin’ home to a house with a woman to take care of you.” 

“You better tie down that dark haired beauty you always bring to functions.” Another would chime in.

He would nod his head and mumble something about just not having found the right girl yet. But he knew, he would never find the right girl, because he wasn’t looking for a girl. And that was a fact that he would not share around the water cooler. That alone would send him out the door, and he was not going to test his luck. Being home with his cat was depressing, he knew this because his best friend, Yennefer, constantly reminded him of this fact. 

He was thankful for her, whenever he needed a date for a company function, she would be there. A beautiful woman to hang off his arm, then go their separate ways when the night came to an end. She was determined to forge her own way into the world, without a husband. A revolutionary idea, if you asked Geralt. And he was always ready to step in if she required a man to stand beside her. Most men would feel used and sour if they were a face to help a woman further herself, but Geralt felt honored she trusted him. Occasionally he felt guilty that she needed him at all. She was the person who turned him on to the club and since that he spent each night there. 

The club was comfortable, tucked away in a back area of the city. Far away from the traditional areas, a small nook in the middle of chaos. To most people, it would have seemed a normal club with a bar and tables scattered about the walls, a small dance floor in the middle, a stage front and center. But Geralt knew that the women at the bar, chatting and smiling were not just good friends, and when they left, they weren’t going to go separate ways. The men at the table in a dark corner were not conducting an under the table business deal. But Geralt had one reason for being in the club every night, and he was on stage.

Jaskier, was his name, it took Geralt three weeks to get the courage to approach him. A slight blush crept up his neck when he remembered the night he finally introduced himself to the singer. After far too much alcohol, of course. 

Geralt was frustrated from work, one of the younger men announced his engagement. Now this should not have bothered him, it usually didn’t. Engagements and weddings were so common that there was a constant supply of cigars passed in the office. No the boy’s engagement didn’t put him off. His boss did. 

The men all sat down, with glasses of scotch and cigars toasting to the happy couple. This was fine, a normal occurrence. His boss started poking at him. “All these young men settling down, what about you Geralt?” 

“Maybe sometime.” Geralt answered emptily. There wasn’t going to be a sometime, not for him. 

And this is the sulky attitude he took to the club that night. Jaskier was on stage, singing his set of tunes. His baritone voice floating above the smoke, piercing through Geralt’s clouded mind. His voice grounded Geralt, brought him out of his attitude, and redirected his attention to the man on stage. He was in a deep blue suit, cream shirt, and a pink bowtie. Not Geralt’s style, but it was Jaskier’s. “Hmmmmm.” Geralt mumbled as he listened to Jaskier’s voice float around the room for an hour as he nursed a drink, then another, and then he couldn’t remember how many. The crowd began to clap and cheer as Jaskier wrapped up his set for the day. Geralt joined them, letting out a wolf whistle. 

The man onstage bowed and leapt lightly off the edge of the stage and headed to the bar. He easily made his way through the patrons and placed his forearms on the bar. “Sidecar, Andy.” He said to the bartender who nodded and began to mix the drink. 

Jaskier’s hazel eyes turned to Geralt, a few stools away. His eyes slowly scanned the larger man up and down until they made their way back up to Geralt’s eyes. A flicker of something burned in the singer’s eyes, but Geralt could not place it before the man turned away to accept his drink from the bartender. 

Geralt sighed. They had been doing this same dance for a while now. But tonight, Geralt was putting an end to it. He slammed the last of the glass of whiskey in his hand and stood. His head spinning slightly. He closed his eyes and counted to ten before moving into the bar stool next to the other man. 

“Nice set.” He said gruffly, panic setting in. He had never approached a man before. Sure he had wanted to, but he hadn’t. 

Jaskier took a sip of his drink. Silence wrapping around the two men as Jaskier sized Geralt up. “I’m glad you liked it.” 

“You always put on a great show.” Geralt managed to spit out. In his mind he was being suave, in reality. He was a goddamn mess. 

“I try.” Jaskier said, taking another sip. Geralt trying to come up with something to keep the conversation from dying. “Have a bite with me?” 

Geralt’s eyes widened and he nodded. The singer chuckled and nodded to the bartender. Jaskier stood and put a hand on the larger man’s forearm. “Let’s go to a table.” 

Geralt followed the other man blindly to the table where they fell into a conversation. Well, Jaskier spoke and Geralt listened. Geralt wouldn’t be able to tell you what they said, what they shared, the mix of alcohol and excitement erased everything but the fact that he spent time with the singer. 

After that night, the two fell into a pattern. Geralt would sit at the bar through Jaskier’s sets for the night. When he was finished they would get food and sit at a table, talking until closing. Some days they would talk about nonsense, others they would talk about their families, their pasts. They had both served in the War, Jaskier and been further from the front than Geralt. They both no longer had ties to their families. Geralt would tell him of Roach’s most recent adventures and catches. He would talk about his job. 

Jaskier would listen to every word Geralt would say, and Geralt loved him for it. Geralt shook his head slightly. He loved him. He loved Jaskier. He’s in love with Jaskier. This had not been an easy conclusion for him to come to. It took him almost a month to process. Yennefer had laughed at him when he bore his soul to her. 

“Took you long enough.” She said, taking a sip of the milkshake in front of her. She always insisted they meet in. For ‘appearences sake’ she said. Geralt had a feeling that she didn’t come there for just the burgers, but he wasn’t one to pull information from her. 

And so he found himself leaving work to head to the club. The club Jaskier was singing in. The club that he was going to tell the singer that he loved him in. His heart beat in his chest as he made his way downtown. He pulled at the tie around his neck until it was loose enough for him to breathe. 

He entered the club, giving a quick greeting to the doorman, who gave a slight tilt to his head as Geralt rushed past him. Geralt glanced around the room. His normal spot at the bar was filled by a woman he recognized, Yennefer. She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling as she raised her glass to him. He glanced around, the only seat he could see was at the table by the stage. He sighed and made his way there, the bartender brought his usual drink to him. The band was warming up onstage, Jaskier was no where to be seen. _Odd,_ Geralt thought, Jaskier regularly would be front and center for sound checks. 

The lights in the room dimmed. And Jaskier made his way onto the stage. Geralt felt his heartbeat speed up. Jaskier made his way to the mic, wearing the same suit he had when they first met. Even with that damn pink bowtie. 

“Good evening everyone.” Jaskier said into the mic. “Tonight, we are going to start out with a song for a special someone.” A few whistles broke out from the crowd. Jaskier winked in Geralt’s direction and nodded to the piano player who began a flourish of notes, fast paced arpeggios rang out from the baby grand. Jaskier put one hand on the mic and took a deep breath. 

“ _They asked me how I knew_

_My true love was true_

_I of course replied_

_Something here inside, cannot be denied”_

Jaskier placed a hand over his heart. Geralt’s eyes did not leave Jaskier’s. Did this mean what he thought it did? He nervously pulled at the collar of his shirt, suddenly it felt too tight. They must have fixed the heating in the club this week.

_“They said "someday you'll find all who love are blind"_

_When your heart's on fire,_

_You must realize, smoke gets in your eyes”_

He winked into the crowd, causing one of the cigar smokers to blow a large puff of smoke towards the stage. 

_“So I chaffed them and I gaily laughed_

_To think they could doubt my love”_

He raised an eyebrow at Geralt. 

_“Yet today my love has flown away,_

_I am without my love,”_

He glanced into the crowd, a forlorn gaze, before his trademark smile broke out across his face. 

_“Now laughing friends deride”_

Jakier gave a slight tilt to his head, causing Geralt to look back to the bar where Yennefer sat.A Cheshire grin splitting her face. She raised her glass and took a sip.

_“Tears I cannot hide_

_So I smile and say_

_When a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes_

_Smoke gets in your eyes"_

Jaskier smiled he finished holding out the final note, Stephen, the pianist, brought the tune to a close with a tremolo on the final chord. The crowd erupted into cheers, several people standing, but Geralt remained in his seat. Jaskier’s eyes stayed locked with his, Jaskier finally broke their contact by turning to the crowd. 

“Now, let’s get this started.” The band erupted into a fast tune, carrying couples to the dance floor. Geralt stayed in his seat, nursing his drink. He knew, without a doubt that he loved that man up on stage. The set came to a close and Jaskier leapt from the stage to stand in front of Geralt. 

“I love you.” Geralt said, not giving the other man the chance to say anything. 

“Oh thank God. I was hoping I didn’t just sing you a love song and you didn’t have feelings for me.” Jaskier said, Geralt paused for a moment. “I love you too.” 

Jaskier held his hand out to Geralt, who looked at it, confused. “Hmmm?” 

“Dance with me.” Jaskier said, and Geralt would not deny him. He would never be able to deny Jaskier anything. 

They made their way to the middle of the dance floor, Stephen played a lilting slow introduction on the piano, the band following him. Jaskier placed one hand on the back of Geralt’s neck, the other guiding Geralt’s hands to his waist. Once he had Geralt situated he brought the other hand up to wrap his arms around the taller man’s neck, causing Geralt to look down at the man in his arms. Geralt’s mind blanked and he found himself leaning down to the other man, Jaskier closed the distance between them, locking his lips onto Geralt’s. 

Geralt tightened his hold on Jaskier, deepening the kiss. Jaskier pulled away for air, pressing his forehead to Geralt’s. They remained silent, wrapped in each other’s arms as the band played on. For the moment all that mattered was the man in their arms and the love they felt. The reality of the world was a problem for another time, for all who love are blind. 


End file.
